Hopeful
by Kailey Hamilton
Summary: It's Valentine's Day. Ken has to deal with unwanted attention, an oblivious best friend, and a girl who has a particular effect in him. Not necessarily in that order. Daisuke&Ken&Miyako friendship. Kenyako UST. Oneshot.


_Notes:_ _To properly understand this story, you need to know two things:_

 _1) Valentine's Day in Japan is not what you see in the West. Girls give the boys chocolates and not the other way around. They give standard-ish chocolates to their male friends, acquaintances and coworkers. They give fancier chocolate to their boyfriends, or alternatively, some girls use this occasion to declare their feelings for a guy. The guys are expected to "return the favor" a month later, in what's known as White Day. They reciprocate the gifts of the girls that gave them chocolates on Valentine's, no matter who she is or which kind of chocolate they gave him. Sounds awkward? My research points out that yes, it is. And this is the very abridged and simplified version of the whole shebang, so if you're interested in knowing more, search it up online._

 _2) This **references Episode 30 of Digimon Adventure 02,** in which Miyako gets tired of Ken's shit and slaps him, but that's all you need to know. The story was edited to reflect this fact._

 _Without further ado,_

* * *

 **Hopeful**

"Girls get so excited over these things."

Ken knew that Daisuke had aimed that remark at Miyako, but it was a lost cause. All afternoon, she'd been working on her laptop. He wasn't sure why she'd happily tagged along when Daisuke had invited him over, when their football practice was cancelled. But he didn't question it. He couldn't remember the last time he saw Miyako outside of school hours. It had gotten to the point where he'd considered walking over to the store whenever he had a free moment, just to see if she was working that day. But he didn't have many free moments anymore.

Now that he had one, he was simply glad for her presence, and she seemed to want their company as well. Ken and Daisuke had been playing some _Winning Eleven_ on the PlayStation, and she'd sat in the living room with them. They'd moved to Daisuke's room when Jun came home, and Miyako followed suit.

So there they were, and as it was, Ken had more puzzling things on his mind. Like the fact that his conversation with Daisuke had abruptly gone from their recent game of videogame football, to Valentine's Day.

"Miyako-san isn't listening," he helpfully pointed out.

"But you don't get it either, do you?"

"I haven't really given it much thought," he said truthfully. "It's just a holiday."

"I guess it's fun for you. Girls like you, man. You surely received plenty of chocolate today."

He just shrugged. Daisuke had been talking a lot about girls lately. His crush of many years on Hikari hadn't gone away, but now he seemed more aware of the fact that she wasn't the only girl around. As for Ken...

Miyako was sitting on Daisuke's revolving chair, her hair loose from the braid the dress code forced upon her. Her round glasses had slipped to the tip of her nose, which she was doing nothing to fix, and her eyes never strayed away from the screen. She sat cross-legged, which she did quite often and it was why, if Ken had to guess, she never tried to shorten her green school skirt like other girls did. He was having a hard time pretending not to see that her skirt was up mid-thigh, showing a bit too much skin right where her socks ended.

He felt blood rush to his face so he looked away, and his eyes fell on his best friend. Sure, Daisuke was oblivious enough. No matter how Miyako looked, he would always insist she was _not a girl_ , something she didn't seem to mind.

It suited Ken just fine.

"I guess I should feel flattered," Ken said, aware he'd been quiet for too long. "But it's more than I can handle. I'm not sure of how to deal with ths."

"Oh, let me see." Daisuke seemed so genuinely happy about this, Ken couldn't truly keep it from him. He simply pointed in the direction of the bag in which he'd thrown it all, which Daisuke reached for readily.

"Wow. That many?"

He looked down. It was about half a dozen boxes, not including the obligatory presents from the only two girls he actually talked to. It seemed like too much, to both of them, for entirely different reasons. Ken didn't mean to sound like he was bragging. He hadn't asked for the attention or done anything to deserve it. If he knew what he was doing to draw such interest, he would stop doing it.

"This really stresses you out, doesn't it?"

Miyako's voice startled him. She was squinting a bit, no longer facing her laptop, which laid closed on Daisuke's desk. Her legs were down; her skirt was fixed. She was leaning forward ever-so-slightly, her back a little too straight, and that's when Ken knew she'd probably been listening for longer than she'd care to admit.

Daisuke was still too busy emptying Ken's bag. Ken opted to return his eyes to the floor.

"Yeah," he admitted. "I don't know what to do."

"Well, it's pretty obvious." Miyako rolled closer to them, looking at the chocolate boxes Daisuke was laying out. "You have to reject the girls you don't like and accept the one you do."

"I don't really like any of them."

"Not even a little?"

It was maddeningly difficult to answer that question with Miyako's eyes digging straight into his. Ken was sure those girls were cute. He simply never gave them any thought, and he would've liked to keep it that way. _I don't know you_ , he wanted to say to each one of them. _Why would you want to show your feelings for me? Why do you even have these feelings for me? What have I ever done?_

But he didn't say that. He'd smiled and said thanks, postponing the inevitable.

"I just... I don't."

"Then you reject them. It really is that simple."

"No, it's not that simple," Daisuke joined the conversation. "Come on, there's got to be one-"

"Not every guy is as desperate as you are," Miyako interrupted.

"Man, I'm jealous." Ken knew enough of Daisuke's good nature to take him too seriously. "You have to give someone a chance."

"No, I haven't."

"No, he hasn't."

The corners of Ken's mouth twitched.

"Who are they, anyway? Anyone from our class?"

"I'm sure he hasn't even talked to all of them." Miyako didn't let him answer, and he was grateful for it. Either way, she was right. "Ken-kun, I know it's tough to let someone down, but you have to do it. It's cruel to leave them waiting."

"You're right. I'm not..." Ken searched for the right words to express himself. It wasn't a kind thought. "I've never been in this position where I have to... hurt someone this way. I don't like it."

"Well, you _are_ going to hurt them. It's not under your control, and you can't blame yourself for it. The only thing you can do is to put them down gently."

That was Miyako and her uncomfortable truths. He always wanted to be angry at her for saying them. He always found that he couldn't resent the truth.

"I don't know how to do that."

"Oi, Ichijouji," Daisuke spoke, "you are asking _Miyako_ how to put things nicely. What's wrong with you?"

"Hey! I can be nice!"

"Sure." He dragged the word. "Not when rejecting people."

"Daisuke, you're not-"

"I am. Rumor has it that Miyako once rejected a guy in front of the whole school by slapping him and calling him an idiot. She can't help you there."

Ken didn't mean to let out such a smirk, or to sound so amused.

" _Really?_ Is that something that you do?"

Miyako's face had turned a furious shade of red and she was looking at the window to her right, or anywhere but him. She rolled her chair away a little. _Does he even know about that time in the Digital World? Would he...? No, even Motomiya wouldn't embarrass her this much. She wouldn't have told him either, and I'm not helping matters. I should apologize later._

"Only when it's deserved." She answered finally. Her eyes were twinkling when she faced him, still with a faint blush. "Neither of you were in junior high yet, or you'd know that I wouldn't have rejected Tetsuya-san in front of the whole school if _he_ hadn't declared himself in front of the whole school. Everyone was watching and it was embarrassing. I freaked out. I'm pretty sure it was a bet, anyway." She made a dismissive gesture with her hand. "No serious, thoughtful person would do that."

"...and that's why Miyako doesn't have a boyfriend."

"Has it occurred to you that I don't have a boyfriend because I don't want one?"

"Because looking at all the good-looking guys-"

"Looking at guys doesn't mean I'm available." She crossed her arms. "It only means they're cute."

"Really? Didn't you give chocolates to anyone today?"

"I gave chocolates to you all." She turned to Ken, her brown eyes smiling and her voice softening and he hoped, desperately, that his heart wasn't readable on his face. "Ken-kun, by the way, you don't have to give me anything in return. Please don't. It looks like you have enough on your plate." She turned back to Daisuke. "But _you_ probably should."

"You had to rub it in."

"Wait. You're not sulking because Hikari-chan didn't give you anything, right? I know who she likes. You should move on, once and for all. It's been ages." Miyako let out an exaggerated sigh, rolling around once in her chair. "And no, Daisuke. It's not Takeru-kun. Surprising, really. But-"

"Wait, wait. You actually _know_ and haven't told me?"

"Are you asking me to betray my best friend?" She was half-spinning now, side to side. "Your Crest of Friendship is shining through."

There was something... Ken didn't know if it was Miyako's playfulness or Daisuke's expression of defeat. They were just entertaining. He wondered if they knew.

"You shouldn't have told me anything at all."

"Maybe, maybe not. Either way, you shouldn't feel sorry for yourself. You did receive chocolates from Reiko-chan, didn't you?"

"I don't even know if she's my type."

 _Then you should stop telling me to give someone a chance._ Ken locked eyes with Miyako. Her raised eyebrows told him she was thinking the exact same thing.

"But maybe," Ken voiced his thoughts, redirecting his attention to his best friend, "you should give her a chance."

Miyako turned away with a fake cough.

"I don't know about that." Daisuke probably noticed her behavior, because he asked, "Oi, Miyako, what do you think?"

"What? I mean... she's _cute_." A mischievous grin was showing through. "I think you could like her. But why are you asking me? She's your classmate, not mine. You know her much better than I do, and she knows you enough... or not. Wait. That actually makes sense now! I have solved the mystery!"

"Just when I thought you were being nice."

"Oh, this one was too easy." She giggled. "I mean it, though. You really want a girlfriend, don't you? And what do you have to lose? She seems nice and it's not like you're marrying her. You can just, I don't know, take her out on a few dates and end things if it doesn't work. You were the one talking about taking chances earlier, weren't you? But if you don't want to, then don't do it."

"Are you done talking?"

" _Fine._ Never ask for my advice again. I thought we were supposed to give advice to Ken-kun, anyway."

"It's alright. I think I'll manage."

"Of course you will," Miyako's grin widened, filling him with a warm, fuzzy sensation. When she said it, he couldn't help but feeling that she had to be right. It wasn't that big of a deal, anyway.

"Miyako," Daisuke said, "you still didn't say who you gave chocolates to."

"But I did. Is it not a good answer?

"You know what I mean."

"No I don't. Unless... look, if you want more chocolates, I have spares. But I remind you that you have to reciprocate on White Day."

"That is not-"

"Anyway," she said markedly. "I should be going. I promised Father I would help around a little. Valentine's at the store..." She started shoving her things in her backpack - her laptop, her notebook, pencils. It all went in with a dash of violence. "I don't know why I agreed."

"Miyako," Daisuke complained, "you're not-"

"I'll walk you there." It was Ken who spoke this time. It made him feel tense to see her so flustered. He shot a glance at Daisuke, clearly meant to communicate that he wouldn't take opposition. Daisuke didn't always understand those little cues, but that time, it worked. So Ken followed Miyako out of the room and to the entrance.

 _I still need to apologize,_ he thought. _And... I want to know. As much as Motomiya does. I'm her friend, am I not? I have the right to be curious. She asked me, after all._

It was unlikely Miyako would tell him anything, but at the very least, it was almost expected for him to show some interest in her life. She wasn't under the obligation to answer his questions. That didn't mean that he shouldn't ask them.

Time seemed to slow down as they said their goodbyes, but it was too fleeting an illusion. Ken didn't actually have much time, since her family's store was just a few minutes away. So as soon as the door closed behind them, he spoke.

"Miyako-san, I'm really sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable."

"What?" She seemed taken aback. "When?"

"Just now. A little earlier. When Motomiya mentioned that guy you rejected."

"Oh. Well, no, that was all Daisuke, as always. He wasn't even out of line. I don't mean... it's not like it's a huge secret or anything. And of course he'd bring it up. He doesn't know about... well, _you_ know."

"Are you ashamed? Because we both know I deserved it, and you know I don't hold it against you."

They walked into the elevator. She started braiding her hair in front of the mirror, and their eyes found each other's through the reflection. Ken silently rejoiced at her calm expression and restrained motions.

Miyako redirected her attention to herself.

"I'm not ashamed, and you did deserve it. I just..." She trailed off. Ken knew she wasn't done, so he waited, watching her long fingers at work. "I don't even know how to put it. It's like... like you, or Hikari-chan. Even Daisuke, when he really wants to... You always know what to say, and how to say it, to get through to people. I don't, and I wish I did."

"But I always understand what you're trying to say," he said. She turned around to face him, her braid now falling over her shoulder. "And I don't think there's something anyone could've said, back then. I was used to being alone." The words came out before he could do anything to stop them. "The concept of people needing me for anything was new to me."

"I didn't understand then, but I think... I think I understand now." Miyako raised her eyebrows. "But, I have to say, I still think you were an idiot."

He laughed quietly. "I am not denying that."

"Very well." Her smile, that bright, candid smile of hers, was back. "Let's not think about that, alright? There's no use. You're not the same person you were then, and I'm not that person either. It's like... it's like we're talking about other people."

Ken nodded. He often forgot that, those days, he'd been too focused on himself. True, he'd wondered what was happening in that overactive little heart of hers. Her honesty, her joy; where did they all come from? Why was it so easy for her to be open? How could she be so forgiving, so grateful? But that was the extent of his questions. There was so much Miyako chose to project, that he'd never wondered about the things she was choosing to keep inside. And it was logical that she wanted to forget and move on as well. It had been easy for no one. _And it was my fault._

He shook his head. Miyako was right - there was no use. It was done, and it was over. He was fortunate, even, that he'd come out of it alive and with such a supportive group of friends. Even if he didn't deserve them.

 _You stop that right now,_ he told himself. _You were given a second chance, and sulking will ruin it._

The cold winter air distracted him from his thoughts, the white streets giving them a harsh welcome. He pushed his hands in his coat's pockets.

"Are you sure you want to walk with me?"

Ken could've said what he really thought, that he wanted this time alone with her, that they hadn't talked, truly talked, in what seemed like ages. He could've said that he missed her. When was the last time it was just the two of them, really? Was there ever such a time?

"It's no problem," he said instead. "You really seemed to want to get out of there."

"Maybe. It's just... Daisuke should know when to take a hint, that's all. He's the most indiscrete person I've met in my entire life and that's saying something, since I've met... well, _me_." Ken laughed internally, and when Miyako spoke again, her voice had lost its fire and her gaze was considerably kinder. "No, I'm not being fair. I know how he is. To him it's so obvious that friends should tell each other everything... he really doesn't mean to be pushy. I'm pretty sure he tells us everything, you know? And I appreciate it. I wish I could do that too. There was a time in which I might have, but it's different now." She looked up, at the distance. "There are some things he doesn't have to know."

 _That I can relate to,_ he thought wryly.

"So you _were_ deflecting his question." Miyako opened her mouth to speak, but he raised his hand to stop her. "I know you don't owe me any explanations. I just... noticed." She often got uneasy when the air was too tense, so Ken smiled. As if a simple gesture could mask the way his chest felt like it was going to implode. "He's a lucky guy."

She waited a few seconds before lowering her head and speaking in a whisper. "I didn't declare myself to anyone, Ken-kun. But Daisuke would've never believed me."

 _Oh._

"So you don't like anyone." He tried not to sound curious, too curious, only following her train of thought, really. It was a logical assumption. Miyako-san didn't give anyone chocolates, therefore, Miyako-san didn't like anyone. Right?

 _Right?_

"That's... not what I said. And by the way," she added much too quickly, "what I said earlier, about next month - I mean it. It's not like I put in any effort. My sister just threw a bag of chocolates at and said, here, I took these from the store for you, give them to your friends. She also gave me a hint like, here, take this fancy quality chocolate too, just in case. Well, let me tell you... I like fancy quality chocolate. And Hawkmon likes it too, of course. He's my one and only."

He smiled at the joke, but his mind was racing and far gone because _Miyako liked someone._ And she had chosen not to confess her feelings.

Ken didn't know if he should feel confused, jealous or hopeful about it. He didn't even know how to feel about the fact that she didn't want to receive anything from him on White Day. It was like Miyako to forget conventions. It was not like him, and she knew it. He had to give something back. Besides, it was _her_ , so he didn't quite mind the formality. It was enough that she'd wanted to give him any kind of chocolate, really. But that was the least of his worries.

 _I really can't be hopeful_ , he concluded. _One might expect... if it's me that Miyako-san is talking about, that she wouldn't be so indifferent about the girls that ask me out. She wouldn't be so insistent that I don't reciprocate her gift. I'm her junior, after all. As if she would ever look my way. It's probably someone with a girlfriend. Or someone she barely knows. That makes sense. I don't even want to know. I'm thinking too much about this._

Ken wanted to laugh at himself for daring to hope. But he couldn't help it. Miyako gave him those smiles, that mellow tone of voice that no one else got to hear, and was so unconditionally willing to accept even the worst of him... There was a time in which he was certain that what he was feeling, whatever it was, would go away with time. Now, he wasn't so sure. If it was something fleeting, something shallow, why was it so confusing? Why did the possibility of her liking someone felt like a punch to his stomach?

And there she was, so distant from his inner struggle. Her eyes were lost among the city lights and her face had an expression of sweet, beautiful serenity. Ken felt an odd warmth spread through his body, his thoughts dimmed. Miyako was always so energetic, there was something undeniably intimate about how peaceful she looked just then.

But, to his dismay, they were approaching the corner where the store was located, and there was still something else he needed to say.

"About White Day."

"Yeah?"

"I want to give you something in return."

"Oh." Her cheeks were most definitely pink, though he suspected it was because of the cold. "Well. In that case, I won't say no. But don't feel-"

"I don't feel forced to, Miyako-san. You worry too much."

She laughed, but didn't say much else. Not that she had time to, since they stood at the corner in which they were supposed to go separate ways. Words were stuck on his throat.

"It was nice talking to you," Miyako said. "We should do this more often."

Ken, who prided himself on acting naturally when Miyako was around, felt his heart speed up. He swallowed, fighting to keep his eyes on hers.

"Yes," he managed to answer. "I think we should."

"Great." She looked through the glass doors. "I really should go in. See you tomorrow?"

"Sure."

Miyako didn't expect or offer a more formal goodbye. She'd already turned around, swift like summer breeze. But for Ken, it wouldn't do.

"Happy Valentine's day." He said as she opened the door.

"For you too." She gave him a thumbs-up, with that big, frank grin that haunted his sleepless nights and scared away his nightmares.

And with that, she was gone. Through the glass doors, Ken could still see her as she walked up to her sister, then her father, and he promptly realized he'd been standing there for a bit too long. So he forced himself to walk away.

Ken's heart still pounded relentlessly. He allowed himself a few seconds to lower his guard and let the sensations wash through him, as if doing that would allow them to be over quickly. He felt weak; defeated, even. Because she was close, but seemed far away, always above the clouds and flying in a world he didn't belong in.

But he couldn't help that bits and pieces of that afternoon floated in his mind as he walked home. Miyako's legs peeking under the school skirt. Her angry blush. The way her eyes looked reflected on that mirror. Her long fingers braiding her hair. That silence of hers when they were walking. Her assurance that she wanted to talk to him more. And for some reason, one of her questions, over and over.

 _This really stresses you out, doesn't it?_


End file.
